How We First Met
by SherlockMycroft
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Simonne and Marshall Lee met? It was pretty much the same as how Simon and Marcy met, but... well, read to find out. (Disclaimer; I don't own Adventure Time. I wish I did, but I don't.)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A young woman sat at her table, seeming utterly alone. Her pretty, long silver-white hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, with a few locks trailing out to give her a somewhat regal appearance. Her abnormally long white eyebrows were covered up by the loose strands of hair. The woman was also wearing a long-sleeved, button-up black dress that went almost to her feet when she stood. Underneath the dress was a long-sleeved light green undershirt. Under her eyes, bags showed signs of many sleepless nights, though they were mostly hidden by her round spectacles.

In front of her sat a small golden tiara, lined with shining red jewels. The woman stared at the tiara, her expression slowly growing into one of hatred. Her eyes flickered and head tilted slightly, as though she was listening to something while looking at the tiara.

"Stupid tiara," she muttered. "Horrible, ugly, dumb..." her gaze hardened, and her voice grew a bit louder. "I know you're there! I know you can hear me!"

"Well well well," a soft, male voice only she could hear whispered in her ear. "Look who's getting brave."

The woman kept her pale eyes fixed on the tiara. "Tell me what you did," she repeated her demand, one she had put out many times before.

The voice chuckled in her mind. "Nothing you didn't want at the time," it coed, and the woman leaned angrily back in her chair. "Now, now, Simonne," her glare softened with its voice. "It's just you and me now. No need to worry about those mean people, _judging _you."

The woman leaned forward, closer to the tiara. She shook her head slightly. "No... you don't really care about me..."

"Oh, but I do," the voice became as sweet as honey, luring Simonne closer. "I've always cared about you. That's why the human had to go."

Simonne frowned, and shook her head violently, breaking away from the tiara's hypnotic voice. "No... You were the one who drove Ben away!" she leaned back, clutching her head. "Ahh! Stop doing that! Stay out of my head!"

She could feel the tiara getting irritated. "I still don't understand what you see in that mortal. _He_ cannot give you the powers of ice, and he just doesn't look right for royalty..."

"I am _not _royalty!" Simonne snapped. "And Benny was a good man! He didn't deserve whatever you did to him."

"How do you know I did something bad?"

"His face," She let her chin rest on her arms, which were folded on the desk. "I could see it. You made me say something awful, something that scared him away forever..."

"Hmph," the tiara scoffed. "If he loved you, he wouldn't have left. Either way, he's gone now. Like I said before, it's just you and me."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Suddenly, Simonne heard a rushing noise. It sounded like an airplane. "Oh, god, no..." she whispered, sitting up quickly.

"Quickly," the tiara's voice hissed. "Put me on, before another barrage hits!"

"No!" Simonne gritted her sharpened teeth and raced into what was now only her bedroom. She snatched up her old hiking backpack and furiously began to stuff it with items. The people of the city had been warned, of course, so she knew what she had to pack. She found a nice pair of her drumsticks and decided they would fit nicely in one of the side pockets. Simonne didn't really know what to after the bombs fell, if she survived, but she still packed what she would need. She strapped a green, rolled up sleeping bag to the top of the pack, then walked quickly out into the kitchen again. She stopped when she remembered the tiara on the table.

"Forgetting something?" she could practically hear it sneer.

Simonne cautiously approached the item. Should she take it with her? Her hand slowly reached out and lightly picked up the tiara, and at the moment she heard a distant but loud whistle.

"No," her voice was small from fear, and she held her arms above her head as the first explosion sounded, far away.

"You fool!" The tiara's voice shouted. "Put me on!"

"No!" she yelled back as another bomb his, closer this time. Everything seemed to rattle as the ground shook.

"DO IT!" the voice shrieked in Simonne's mind, and she put the hand that wasn't clutching the tiara against her aching head.

"Oh _god,_" she staggered as two more bombs hit, only blocks away.

"FOOL!" Simonne could hardly bear it's voice.

"STOP IT!" she shrieked back, jumping as another bomb hit. That one had sounded really close.

"Only when you put me on!" it's voice ripped through her head.

She looked up at the ceiling as the roar of plane engines moved right above her head. "Oh, BREADBALLS!" There was nothing else she could do. Simonne closed her eyes and held the tiara over her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as the whistling began, without knowing who exactly she was apologizing to, and she placed the tiara on her head. The whistling and the tiara's laughter were the last things she heard before all went black.


	2. Chapter 2

When Simonne opened her eyes again, she was colder.

She knew she was colder, partly from the warm feeling of what should have been the cool evening air on her skin. She lifted on hand up and saw it was much bluer than it was before. Simonne stood up unsteadily, nearly tripping on the shards of ice and rubble that lay around her. Simonne took a sad look around at the frozen remains of her house, and with a jolt realized there was still a slight weight on her head. She reached up, knocked off the tiara, and watched it fall onto a slab of ice. She also noticed her backpack lying a few meters away, so she walked over to it and put it on.

Simonne looked back at the tiara, whose jewels were still shining energetically. Sighing, she walked back to the golden crest and picked it up gingerly. The magic had saved her and, whether she liked it or not, she needed it. she pulled out an old strip of cord, looped it through her belt and the tiara's center, and thusly fastened it to her belt. To be easy to reach and use, but only if she needed it.

"You know, you could at least say thank you," a voice puffed softly in her ear.

"I could," Simonne murmured as she stepped carefully through the remains of her home, her heavy backpack rustling as the books and clothing writhing shifted around. "Could but won't."

"You'll come around," Simonne winced as she realized the tiara probably _would_ get a 'thank you' out of her, if it wanted one.

Simonne began walking through the city, where everything was either completely destroys, on fire, or both. She looked around nervously, worrying she might be the only one in the city who survived the attack. Then she heard a shout.

"No!" It sounded like a little boy was yelling nearby. "No, don't leave me again!" Simonne began walking towards the child's voice, hearing a distinct tone of sorrow in it, and hoping whoever it was wasn't being hurt. She stopped when, as she rounded a pile of rubble on a corner, she saw the boy.

He was a very little boy, and looked to be about five. His short black hair seemed to never have know a brush or scissors. He was dressed cutely in plain blue overalls, a red-and-white striped shirt, and red tennis shoes. Oddly, two tiny, razor-sharp, bright white fangs stuck out of his mouth, and his grey hands reached up to rub his blood-red eyes as he began to cry. Simonne walked a little closer, until she was close enough to hear the demon-like boy sniffle.

"Why do you have to go?" the boy began to sob pitifully, and Simonne set her backpack down. "Mommy..." Simonne realized, despite his ghoulish appearance, he was still a child. She couldn't leave a child alone in the remains of a city, where anything could come and hurt him. either way, she was in no position to judge by appearances, as her teeth were sharper than his, and her skin was turning blue. Simonne ran up to the boy, her black shoes clicking on the pavement as she hurried towards him before anything else could. He looked at her, too sad to be afraid as she crouched to wipe a tear from his eye. She didn't speak, but nodded to the boy sympathetically.

Simonne stood up, thinking. She wanted the boy to know that she was a friend, and the best thing she could think of was to give him a gift. She turned to the town's toy store, which was a little distance away, barely in sight. She ran over and looked at the pile of toys spilling out of the broken front window. Right on top, as through put there specifically for her to find, was a bright, brand-new blue bear, with bright pink buttons for eyes. It was perfect, and the least destroyed toy there. She picked it up gently, not wanting to rip or soil it, and returned to the boy, who was looking around fearfully. It looked like he didn't expect her to come back. She handed him the bear, and he hugged it, a smile slowly growing on his face as he looked up at her.

"Hello," Simonne said softly. "I'm Simonne. What's your name?"

The boy wiped the gathering tears from his eyes. "M-my name's M-marshall Lee," he stuttered a bit, still not quite done crying. "You can," he took a deep breath and calmed down. "You can call me Marshall... if you want."

Simonne nodded, faintly surprised that such a little boy like Marshall could be so articulate. "How old are you, Marshall?" she asked, wondering at how her voice could be so soft.

"Six," his eyes flashed with slight excitement. "But I'll be seven soon."

She nodded. "Are you here with anyone else?" she asked, wondering at why anyone would come to the destroyed city.

Marshall frowned, a mixture of sadness and anger filling his expression. "No. My mommy just left me, and I-I don't know where my dad is..."

Simonne rested a hand gently on his shoulder, worrying that he would begin to cry again. "It's okay. I'm sure your dad is fine," she looked around a bit warily. "Do you know where your mom went?"

Marshall looked at her. "Yeah. She went home, and told me to stay here with my daddy. But daddy isn't here..." he let out a growl that was deep, inhuman, and... sad? "I don't know why she never wants to see me..."

"It's okay, Marshall," Simonne smiled reassuringly. "Hey, how would you like to come with me?"

"Really?" He brightened up, his eyes filling with hope.

"Yeah, of course!" Simonne laughed softly. "To be honest, looking the way I am, it's not likely I'll be able to find any other person who would want to stick around with me."

"I think you look pretty," Marshall Lee grinned at her, revealing a mouth full of tiny, razor sharp teeth. "Everyone gets nervous around me for some reason, too!"

Simonne chuckled bitter-sweetly at the thought of people being mean to Marshall, and him laughing at them for it. She stood up without another word and held her hand out to Marshall. He set his tiny hand in it and they walked over to Simonne's backpack, which was where she left it. She put it on, and started to walk through the city with Marshall. Neither know where they were headed, but either way, they knew they were going together.


	3. Chapter 3

Simonne sat exhaustedly on the ground while Marshall Lee continued to speed around energetically. His blue bear, who he had named Sid, was lying on Simonne's backpack. Marshall ran up to a smaller tree and, hooking his fingers around the trunk, began running in swift circles around it.

"Marshall!" Simonne called, laughing tiredly. "You're making me dizzy just by watching you!"

"Aww..." Marshall's disappointment at not being able to run around the tree was short lived. He brightened up as he noticed one of the branches was low over his head. He jumped up and, grasping the branch tightly, easily pulled himself into the tree.

Simonne was about to call out for him to be careful, but she found herself staring wonderingly as Marshall quickly scaled the tree. His slender arms were a blue, his hands grasping each branch in little fingers with the utmost trust. His feet never slipped or swung, but found each branch they needed to step on as though they were guiding themselves.

"Adorable, isn't it?"

Simonne glared at the tiara on her belt, but didn't answer it.

"Oh, come on. You can't possibly think you can ignore me forever," it whispered.

"Maybe not, but I can d*** well try," Simonne muttered through her teeth.

"Hmm," she looked at the crown warily. "Is the little boy distracting you? Perhaps I should get rid of him too..."

Simonne gasped. "You-! You leave Marshall alone!" She shouted, scowling at the cursed artifact. Then she heard a shout.

Marshall, who had been listening to Simonne when he heard her yelling, had stopped paying attention to his climbing and had grabbed a dead branch. The branch splintered when he pulled on it, and as a result he lost his balance and, shouting, began to fall down the tree. Simonne looked up, wide-eyed in shock, in time to watch Marshall fall. To Simonne, he seemed to hit every branch, his head twisting for the impacts and arms flailing to grab a branch. Finally he fell through the final layer of leaves and hit the ground with a sickening thud. Simonne leapt to her feet and raced over to Marshall. The six-year-old was lying terribly still, and Simonne crouched by his side, horrified.

"Pity," the tiara whispered mockingly in her head. "The boy fell."

"STOP!" Simonne shrieked, not realizing she was only screaming in her mind. "This is your fault!" she shivered and felt sick. "Get out of my head!"

"It's time you listened to me, the ice and snow!" It's terrible voice filled her head, and Simonne fell to her side, clutching her horribly aching head as voices whirled around her mind and visions swam before her eyes.

Marshall Lee opened his eyes, recovering from the stun of his fall. He took after his mother in several ways, and one was that it was hard for him to get too hurt. He sat up, slowly and painfully, and whimpered as he saw Simonne curled up on the ground, babbling fearfully and incoherently. He watched fearfully as her hand drifted to the tiara strapped to her belt.

"Get away from me," Simonne whimpered at the spirits. To Marshall, though, she just seemed to be having a terrible nightmare.

"Simonne," Marshall whispered, putting his hand on her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

Simonne flinched. "Oh god, no, they can touch me..." she shook off his hand, eyes still squeezed shut. "Please, leave me alone!"

"Simonne!" Marshall shouted, frightened and wanting Simonne to wake up. Simonne finally opened her eyes, and looked up at Marshall.

"Huh? Wha-" Simonne sat up slowly, confused, and with no memory of what just happened. "How did..." she remembered one thing, though. "Oh, Marshall, are you okay?" She asked, turning to him worriedly.

"Y-yeah," Marshall was confused now. "Just a couple bruises.. are _you_ okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She saw his worried face and it dawned on her what had happened. "Oh no, what did I say?" She looked him over, watching for signs of ice.

"No," Marshall shook his head. "You just seemed... really scared..."

"Oh, Marshall," She hugged him tightly, for they had grown close in the two weeks of travelling together. "I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't scare you," She sat for a moment with little Marshall in her arms. "I just... want you to know that, if I start acting weird in any way, please forgive me for whatever I do. I don't mean it.

Marshall looked at her with his bright red eyes brimming with questions. "Okay," he conceded.

There was something else she had to tell him. "Marshall, if I act scared or confused, please, try to help me. Talk to me or something. If I seem the slightest bit hurt or angry, I want you run away as fast as you can and hide from me until I'm calm."

Marshall looked her, worried by her warnings. "But why?"

"It's a little hard to explain, sweety, but please, remember what I've told you." Simonne leaned back and looked into his eyes. "Okay?"

"Okay, Simonne," Marshall leaned onto her so that he was sitting in her lap. "Hey, Simonne, you wanna know something?"

"What is it?"

"You sound just like my mom, when she's nice." He hugged her again. "It's nice to have a mom who's not mean most of the time."

"But Marshall, I'm not your mom," Simonne said, looking down at the top of his little head.

"Sometimes I like to pretend," he nearly whispered, and Simonne and Marshall sat there hugging for awhile.

Simonne couldn't help thinking about Ben, and how things might have been like this in the future if it weren't for her tiara. But then, Marshall would have been alone. She looked at the little grey figure in her arms, the faint bruises on his body marking both his fall and his resilience. she smiled slightly as she realized he had fallen asleep. Simonne stood up, carefully carrying Marshall over to her backpack. Pulling off the sleeping bag, she tucked Marshall Lee in, and kissed him gently on the head, like a mother to her son. She sat by him and pulled out a book to read by the evening sunlight.

"Goodnight, Marshall," she whispered.


End file.
